


Feast

by Nununununu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Attraction, Don't copy to another site, F/F, First Kiss, First Meetings, Food, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Historical Fantasy, Holding Hands, Picnics, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24723682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: While the other villagers cower or head off up the mountain in hope of slaying the dragon with their shiny swords, Marie has a different idea.
Relationships: Ancient Dragoness who Can Turn Into a Human/Local Village Girl, Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45
Collections: Eat Drink and Make Merry 2020





	Feast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubynye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/gifts).



> For Rubynye. Thanks for the lovely prompts :)
> 
> (Originally posted 26/07; updated for author reveals)

A tremendous roar echoed off the mountains, a great plume of fire streaming out from the dragon’s cave, scorching the few remaining trees still standing, blasting them into ash. A scream followed it, high and wavering, and then a panicked figure came rushing down the path towards Marie.

“Are you injured?” She stepped aside to avoid collision, but sent a hand out to steady the man, “I take it your quest didn’t turn out so well.”

It was Alfred, the blacksmith’s apprentice and the latest volunteer to try to defeat the dragon, but never as she’d seen him before. Down in the village he was always taking pride in his work-wrought muscles, eager to demonstrate his strength to anyone easily impressed. In contrast now, he was ashen and trembling, bracing his hands on his knees to stay upright.

“The dragon,” he panted, “Wants a woman,” and swooned, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Of course it does,” Marie rolled her own eyes, grunting under his weight as she caught him with the hand not holding her basket. She laid him down next to the path with a smooth rock for a pillow, checked he wasn’t going to swallow his tongue, spread her cloak out on top of him for a blanket and deemed it the best she could do. There wasn’t any risk of wolves since the dragon had come, and bandits knew full well they’d find themselves targets of the dragon’s lust for gold and jewels.

Everyone knew that was what dragons craved – that, fresh livestock and virgin sacrifices. Given the village possessed no riches, thanks to those bandits, there had been a scramble to find a chaste person of age willing to kindly volunteer themselves for the good of all – except possibly themselves – before Norbert the blacksmith had stepped up with his best sword and claimed he would destroy the dragon for good.

He’d been the first person to come screaming down the mountain. Alfred was the fourth. Marie had waited amongst the others, crowded in the village hall, and had thought of the fact the bandits had been released shaken and somewhat charred but not eaten, suddenly finding themselves with the urge to take up a different profession elsewhere. She’d thought about the fact that none of the village’s precious sheep had gone missing and how this might not purely be due to the lack of the usual wolves. She’d thought about her cherished garden, lovingly tended at the back of her cottage, and the baking she’d done that morning, along with the cheeses and ham she’d bought at the market, and then she’d slipped out of the back of the hall when everyone was busy peering out of the windows, predicting Alfred’s fate.

The dragon had gone silent up in its cave.

Marie approached quietly, but without trying to creep, suspecting an attempt to sneak up on it would find herself fried. The nearer she came to the entrance, the more she became convinced she could in fact hear muttering.

If anything, it sounded disappointed.

“I’ve bought you a basket to say thanks,” she called when she reached the great jagged mouth of the cave, all blackened as it was from the dragon’s smoke. Ash crunched underfoot.

“And what,” came an immense booming voice that was still distinctly female, “Would one such as I want with a _basket_?”

“Of food,” Marie found that she smiled, perhaps inappropriately, but if she was about to die she didn’t want to waste time being afraid. Her heart was beating a little faster than usual and perhaps she’d been stupid, but – well. At least she would be able to say she’d tried.

“Of food?” The dragon echoed, and a massive, sinuous head snaked on its long scaly neck out of the depths of the cave to peer at her and her basket with lambent yellow-green eyes the size of dinner plates. The curve of its mouth showed off wicked teeth. “What kind of food?”

“Oh, most of the contents of my larder,” Marie propped the basket against her thigh and opened the lid to show some of the cloth-wrapped packages, noting the way the dragon’s nostrils flared, “The cheesemonger’s best wares, a good portion of ham, apples, pears and cherries from my garden and bread and homemade jam. I don’t know if dragons like cake, but I bought some for dessert just in case, and scones I made this morning and a packet of fresh butter, and –”

“You bought me a picnic,” The dragon interrupted. Her tone was unreadable, but she’d yet to look away from the basket, “No one’s ever done that before. They usually just thrust idiots at me or try to poke me with swords.”

“I figured,” Marie shrugged a bit awkwardly, given the weight of the basket, “I also figured that you’d chased off those bandits and saved our sheep from the wolves, so thought a meal was the least I could do, as I don’t have any jewels except for the one on my great-grandmother’s locket, and I didn’t give it to the bandits when they tried to make me and I’m not giving it to you.”

“That basketful wouldn’t even be a mouthful for a dragon,” The dragon said, and then there was a shimmering explosion of fiery colours, and when it ended, Marie wasn’t dead, but a woman with incredible hair stood there before her, reaching eagerly for the basket.

“May I?” Her clothes were fashioned in the style Marie’s great-grandmother had worn, some of them looking even older than that, yet all of them were beautifully preserved. There was wisdom and cunning both in her heart-shaped face, ageless in the way that made Marie suspect the dragon had lived through those centuries and more.

While the sight of her snatched Marie’s breath away, the yellow-green eyes that looked up at her near stopped her heart.

As before, it wasn’t in fear.

“You do realise there is far too much food here for me to eat alone now I am in this form,” The woman said, “You will join me for the meal?”

“Of course I will and of course you may,” Smiling, Marie passed the basket over to her, “You know, I passed a pretty glade down in what’s left of the forest if you wanted to eat outside.”

“You dare suggest my cave lacks ambience?” There was humour in the answering curve of the woman’s lips.

“I simply thought fresh air might be nice,” Brushing down her skirts, Marie next straightened her hair, aware of that yellow-green gaze intent upon her throughout.

“I suppose it might,” The woman agreed, and linked her arm with Marie’s, “You would be so kind as to lead the way? Things don’t tend to look the same when on feet instead of wings.”

“I suppose I might,” Marie couldn’t resist teasing in return as they fell into step together, heading out of the cave, “We might pass Alfred on the way, if he hasn’t yet recovered from his swoon. You made quite the impression on everyone, you know?”

“I always seem to,” A little smoke drifted from the woman’s lips to curl around her hair as she huffed, “Overtures of friendship never do seem to come across as intended. People always _presume_.”

“They do, don’t they,” Marie refrained from pointing out that if the woman had come to the village in her current form, she might have had more success. Because why _should_ she? As far as Marie saw it, the dragon was a dragon and shouldn’t have to pretend otherwise.

“ _You_ didn’t,” The look the woman gave her was definitely approving.

“The only virgin wasn’t willing,” Marie couldn’t help the way her heart picked up even further at the sight, “Besides, I thought he looked bony.”

“I would like to say I’ve never understood the reasoning behind the rush to offer up such innocents,” The woman eyed the crumpled bundle Alfred had left in a heap on the rock, before putting the basket down to pick up the cloak and shake it out, “I presume this is yours?”

“Yes, thank you,” Marie was conscious of the impulse to hold her breath as warm hands placed the cloak around her shoulders.

“It suits you,” The woman smiled when she was done, a decision in her gaze, “You may call me Amaranth, if you wish.”

“I do,” Marie returned the smile, “Amaranth. My name is Marie.”

“Marie,” Nodding in open pleasure, Amaranth gestured for Marie to continue leading the way, “I believe our lunch awaits.”

“Indeed it does,” Marie startled a little when one of those warm hands brushed against hers as they resumed walking, but let her fingers tangle with Amaranth’s, biting down hard on her lip to quash her grin.

The clearing was just as pretty as she remembered, filled with wildflowers of every colour, the trees tall and verdant around them now the sky had cleared from the smoke leftover from the dragon’s flame.

“It wasn’t my intention to destroy those higher up the mountain,” Amaranth’s tone was honest, her gaze switching from Marie’s face to the basket and back again, as if she didn’t know which to focus on as they sat down and prepared to eat.

“I imagine Albert said something offensive,” Marie began removing the cloth-covered packages, Amaranth making a low sound of pleasure at the sight of the cheese she unwrapped, “He has a tendency to think with his muscles rather than his brain.”

“Damned idiot tried to poke me in the eye for suggesting he go back home before he hurt himself with the sword he obviously didn’t know how to properly handle,” Amaranth happily investigated the ham next, “There isn’t anywhere in this world humans haven’t decided to settle. All I wanted was a nice quiet place to live and maybe even some friends.”

“Other dragons?” Marie ventured.

“Territorial,” The noise Amaranth made on discovering the bread brought heat to Marie’s cheeks, “You baked this?”

The noise she made on biting into a slice slathered with butter was even _better_.

“I’d be glad to teach you how,” Marie ate her own slice with ham somewhat more decorously, but with no less enjoyment, “My cottage has room for two, if you felt so inclined.”

That – was moving far too fast, wasn’t it. Oh bother. She flushed from neck to forehead.

“If – if your cave proves chilly, I meant,” she temporised, “I didn’t mean to imply it wasn’t good enough.”

“I imagine a cottage would be lovely and cosy,” Humour, thankfully, was twitching again at Amaranth’s lips, although there was curiosity along with something much like yearning in her yellow-green eyes, “In all my centuries, I’ve never been invited into a human dwelling. Or made bread. Or fashioned a sword. Or – well, I could go on.”

“I’ve never flown or breathed fire or scared away bandits for good,” Marie did have a favour she could call in, though, and have Norbert the blacksmith let Amaranth use his forge.

Now that would be a fun conversation.

“But you _did_ scare them off for a while,” Amaranth hadn’t missed the implication, it seemed, though she did become somewhat distracted on biting into a slice of apple along with a hunk of cheese, “Damn, this is good.” Happiness became her, “I _like_ human food.”

“I like _you_ ,” Marie answered before she could edit herself at all, and had to bury her hot face in her bread, cursing herself.

“I like you too,” Amaranth looked delighted, when Marie dared to peek at her, “Do you think it would scare the others in your village _too_ terribly if I paid a visit?”

_You could always stay_ , Marie was tempted to say, but she wasn’t about to suggest a creature of the sky and fire confine themselves to one place.

“I think they deserve it,” she declared instead and, when they had finished eating, took the hand Amaranth offered, letting the other woman tug her to her feet.

“Oops,” Amaranth grinned when Marie found herself a little closer to her than expected. Those yellow-green eyes were luminous, Amaranth’s mouth full of slightly too sharp teeth. Tiny tendrils of fire licked at her hair. “Silly me. Sometimes I forget my own strength.”

“No harm in that,” Marie grinned back, and couldn’t resist reaching up to touch one of those flaming locks, finding the fire somehow harmless but wonderfully warm. It felt like sunshine against her skin.

“Shall we pack up the picnic things and fly down to the village?” Amaranth brushed claw-tipped fingers against Marie’s cheek.

“That sounds _amazing_ ,” Marie could only imagine the riot that would result; Albert was probably spinning all sorts of tales of his heroic attempts to not _quite_ defeat the terrible dragon, while the others in the hall bet on her fate.

“First, though?” Amaranth ran her thumb over Marie’s lower lip in question and Marie nodded, still smiling as she leaned in.

“Yes, first,” she agreed, and kissed her as a sudden breeze scattered wildflower petals around them in the bright sunshine, much like a pair of great wings had unfurled.


End file.
